


Sweet Encounters

by laraF



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2016, Cookies, H/D Owlpost Holiday Fest, M/M, Merry Christmas, cavity-danger, gift for xErised, sweets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laraF/pseuds/laraF
Summary: Everything is Malfoy's fault. Except his sweet tooth.That was definitely Aunt Petunia's.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xErised](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xErised/gifts).



> It was extremely fun and dare I say, mouth-watering to write this fic for you, dear xErised! I hope you like it just as much as I do! :)
> 
> PS: Your prompt was f.a.b.u.l.o.u.s!

Sweet Encounters

 

 

It all started at the Leaky Cauldron with that too divine, thrice damned salted caramel sauce. Or with Hermione’s unbearable cravings. Or with Ron’s tough and never ending workdays at the Ministry. Harry often blessed his foresight since Ron graduated from the Academy – he chose to be a magical antiquarian which was more than enough for him when it came to excitement. There was once this innocent looking tiny silver box from the sixteenth century for example. It belonged to a whimsical old lady and puffed purple smoke that hypnotized everyone making them suicidal. The mess he had to clean up after a group of kids found it… Cornelius Fudge was much funnier when he wandered into The Maraudery and tried on a pair of mischievous lime green trousers. He was immediately transported to a circus floor hitting the headlines the other day with a picture about him running in circles from two enraged lions. Hermione had one hell of a job as his lawyer because the ex-minister seriously wanted to sue him out of his wealth.

 

  
  
It was snowing above Diagon Alley but in the Leaky it was warm and homey. The crispy air and the freezing wind reddened his face and he had to shake off pounds of snow from his robe. The ante-room was charmed to spirit away every speck of dirt the costumers may have dragged in from the outside but some little crystal flakes stubbornly stayed in his raven hair. Since Hannah Abbott took over the place from Tom it went through a real transformation – it became a clean, bright and colorful inn. Harry felt like the walls themselves emanated sheer happiness but the real boon was the food. The sweets, to be precise.

  
That was the reason he was here. Again. Third time in the week and it was only Tuesday. Tuesday! Hermione and her pregnant hormones…

  
But leaving the calming and familiar presence of his most beloved shop’s relative safety wasn’t even the worst part. Oh, no. _He_ was tapping impatiently on the most elegant table’s marble top, nails irritatingly impeccable. The inn’s friendly lights were dancing on his platinum blonde hair.

  
Harry forgot his eyes on those thin lips and that chiseled jaw.

  
The voice though…

  
Nothing grated on his nerves more than Draco Malfoy’s incessant _whining_.

  
“I _need_ that Christmas Tree, Abbott!”

  
“And you _must_ wait in line just like the others, Malfoy.”

  
“Don’t you understand? It’s a matter of life or death! Don’t take it so lightly!”

  
“I’m sure that Scorpius will survive it if he gets an enormous and perfect Tree _on the twenty-fifth_.”

  
“Don’t you get it, you simpleton? Mother will kill me if I’m not ready with everything in time!” Malfoy shrieked. That inhuman sound reverberated on Harry’s eardrums. He winced at Hannah’s deceptively calm face. The face she always pulls when her husband accidentally covers everything with gross plant-slime. Neville just gained a position at Hogwarts as the new Herbology professor but he could still be a bit clumsy.

  
She was positively _murderous_.

  
“Pompous arse!”

  
“Plebeian imbecile!”

  
“You’re not my only client, don’t act like you’re better than all of them!”

  
“Does the truth hurt, Abbott? I am better than most!”

  
Hannah’s hand inched dangerously close to a pot full of steaming hot caramel.

  
Harry stepped in before she could’ve thrown it at Malfoy’s face.

  
“Okay, everybody. Calm down.”

  
“Pot-head. Just what I needed. Really, my day was horrible already; I didn’t need _you_ to make it worse!

  
“Merlin, Malfoy!” George suddenly appeared and clapped the blonde on the back. He jovially stated “You should get laid soon. All these nerves cannot be very healthy, am I right, Harry?”

  
Malfoy coughed into his fancy cocktail.

  
“My sexual life is none of your business!” he spluttered. “And just so you know, I have tons of admirers waiting for my graces. But I can allow myself to be picky.”

  
“Sure, sure.”

  
“I think your sarcasm is not appreciated here, George” Harry said dryly. He watched Draco trying to hex the agile ginger with no success whatsoever.

  
“This is yours, sweetie.” Hannah went into the kitchen while they were bickering and when she came back in her hands were the most delicious looking coconut cake Harry had ever seen.

 

 

  
  
“Thanks, Hannah. You’re an angel.” Harry carefully placed the masterpiece into the special carrier box George provided him with. It resisted all weather conditions, shocks and grabby hands.

  
“This is just ridiculous! The Chosen One arrives, he doesn’t even have to speak a word and five minutes later he can leave with a huge cake while I’m waiting for hours now!” Malfoy grumbled. His face was flushed pink and hair unusually disheveled for a snotty pureblood. George mouthed ‘you’re welcome’ grinning madly at Harry behind the blonde's back.

  
Harry grimaced and willed his budding arousal to go away.

  
“It’s an emergency” he said solemnly.

  
“He ordered it yesterday, just before midnight” Hannah confirmed.

  
“Who cares? I ordered three days ago! Days!” Malfoy cried indignantly.

  
“Yeah, and you don’t have a pregnant best friend who threatened to burn down your inn, roast you on the remaining coal and feast on your spiced up corpse” George shuddered with a strange mixture of fear and admiration.

  
“If you don’t want another punch in your face I suggest remaining from stopping me” Harry cautioned the blonde. Malfoy gulped. Harry had to forcibly divert his eyes from that pale Adam’s apple.

  
“She’s a scary, scary woman” muttered Hannah and placed a bowl of cute polar bear, penguin and reindeer shaped cookies in front of George.

 

  
  
“Outrage! What’s your excuse, Weasley?”

  
“I’m simply awesome.”

  
“Arrgggh! Tarantallegra! Inflatus! Ducklifors!”

  
“Ahhahahahaha!”

  
“Stop it, you rascals! Don't ruin my pub! Ah! You'll have to pay for that statue! It cost more than fifty galleons!”

  
Using the temporary chaos Harry slipped out from the Leaky Cauldron and happily welcomed the fresh, chilling air.

  
He always felt flustered and a little embarrassed after seeing Malfoy. The attractive git…

 

 

 

The second meeting happened in Godric’s Hollow of all places. What the buggering hell was Malfoy doing in Godric’s Hollow?

  
“The fuck are you doing here?” slipped out from his mouth unwillingly.

  
“Wow, Mr Charming” Malfoy replied haughtily. “No wonder you’re hiding away in your shop of doom. You should take etiquette lessons.”

  
“Why would I? Doesn’t seem to have a big effect on you now, does it? Or am I an exception?

  
“Don’t think yourself so special. You’re not” Malfoy declared with mild disgust on his face that morphed into surprised awe quickly – as soon as he got a glimpse of Harry’s package.

  
“What are those?” he squealed in a very unmanly way.

  
“Uhm, marshmallow lambs and pop cakes?”

  
  
        

  
  
“Sweet Morgana, they’re cuuuuute!”

  
“Who are you and what did you do to the real Draco Malfoy?” Harry stared horrified. Malfoy blushed and swatted him on the head.

  
“Ouch!”

  
“Oh shut up! Scorpius will be delighted!” he lunged for the glass container and only Harry’s superior Quidditch reflexes saved the cookies.

  
“They’re mine! Get a batch for yourself!”

  
“Why when you have them ready? Abbott wouldn't serve me if her life depended on it! She's hell-bent on ruining Scorpius's Christmas!”

  
“You're just too impatient!”

  
“No, I'm reasonably worried!”

  
“Infuriating prat!”

  
“Selfish bastard!”

  
“My parents were married!”

  
“Aww, look at them, just like married grandpas brawling over the last plate of soup!” Familiar, mocking laughter sounded from behind their backs. Hermione was balancing on the slippery ground – it was covered in thick, mirror-like ice. Ron seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack but Hermione’s occasional death glares stopped him from helping out his wife. “If you’re quite done with the foreplay – Merlin knows it lasted more years than what is considered healthy – we should go. Andromeda’s waiting.”

  
Ron guffawed while Harry and Malfoy started to shout at the same time.

  
“You are a horrible best friend. It is not foreplay!”

  
“Dare repeat it and I…”

  
“Malfoy, if you finish that sentence I’ll hex off your balls and feed them to Hagrid’s new pet-anaconda. It’s a magical one.”

  
“Extremely venomous” Ron piped in helpfully.

  
“Snakes don’t attack Slytherins” Malfoy sniffed.

  
Hermione’s answering smile was nasty. The three boys swallowed simultaneously and took a step back.

  
The witch raised her wand. Her mouth was trembling, her nostrils flared. Her big belly didn't lessen the frightening posture at all.

  
“Guys, I recommend running” Ron murmured.

  
“I think it’s too late” Harry whispered back. He clutched the bowl tightly to his chest with his right hand while his left inched into his extended pocket. Very carefully, like someone approaches a wild animal he pulled out a box of cupcakes. Hermione’s wide pupils focused on the treats right away.

  
“Okay, Hermione, follow me.” The witch took a step forward. She resembled a predator stalking its prey. Harry withheld his breath. “These amazing red velvet cakes are waiting only for you. Stay calm. Relax. Relax…”

 

  
  
He didn’t have redundant senses and Ron busied himself with sending a Patronus to Andromeda. She’d better get ready for Hermione’s unpredictable mood swings because they were apparating away in a minute. They formed a half-hug already – Hermione munching satisfied on her cupcakes – and were in the middle of turning on their heels when Harry realized that he no longer had the other sweets.

  
“Malfoy!”

  
“Thank you very much for your cooperation, Potter!” said blonde waved with the glass box. The glee was practically radiating from him. Maybe Harry only imagined the snowmen staring at him with disappointment in their dark chocolate eyes.

 

 

 

He was walking back from the Leaky Cauldron with various packets of spicy fudge. Chocolate and peanut butter, eggnog, pumpkin and latte… Brain-melting delicacies. In Diagon Alley’s center stood a grandiose Christmas Tree – he was heading that way. A long and thick knitted scarf covered half of his face but the tip of his nose was ridiculously red from the cold. His Gryffindor-colored gloves and the sweater Mrs Weasley made for him kept his other parts pleasantly warm. A sliver of guilt slinked his way into his thoughts and his hands tightly wrapped around the packets. Mrs Weasley’s cookies were the best of course but Hannah’s fudge-variations were simply _sinful_. He couldn’t resist the temptation when he made his regular visit for Hermione. She demanded a fruitcake with marzipan topping. She was furious after a night spent with running to the bathroom. Ron sported such big bags under his eyes he could’ve hidden elephants in them.

  
  
      

 

  
  
He was whistling a Christmas carol he heard on the wireless with a horribly false tune. Goblins and children slalomed at leg-level, worried parents rushing after their overly excited spawn. The snow was falling in giant flakes – thousands of freed fairies giving them an unearthly, diamond-like glow. And the scent of hot cocoa and mulled wine… Every little detail was _perfect_.

  
“Potter.”

  
“Malfoy.”

  
They were standing side by side, looking up at the tree. Malfoy was nibbling on a candied apple. Harry was subtly watching the blonde’s pink lips rhythmic parting and closing. It was truly maddening.

 

  
  
“I saw you at the Leaky with Lovegood.”

  
“Yeah, she came back from Norway for a week.”

  
“Was she searching for the Yeti?” Malfoy snorted.

  
“Even muggles know that Yetis are living in the Himalayas.”

  
“What’s it with you and muggles?” Malfoy shuddered theatrically. “One would think you grew up among them.”

  
“Well, I grew up among them.”

  
“Wha…?”

  
“Hey, look! A Blubbering Humdinger!” Harry shouted. Even he felt bad for the pretended enthusiasm but Malfoy seemed to believe it as he was turning around madly.

  
He had no idea that the ex-Slytherin didn’t know a single thing about his real past.

  
Not that he liked revealing anything about it but it was kind of… _sad_.

 

 

 

“Okay. Not that I like you, because I don’t. I don’t!” Malfoy cried indignantly at Hermione’s snickering. Hannah rolled her eyes, Luna was staring dreamily at the ceiling – which was charmed to show the night sky, much like in Hogwarts – and Neville carefully poked an ugly potted plant. George was in charge of the drinks. Intense coffe liquor aroma was floating around in the Leaky Cauldron’s common room. Ron was sitting in front of the piano and tried to solve its mystery.

  
Harry didn’t know what to think about the heavy box wrapped up in silky silver paper. Its sparkling was similar to Malfoy’s… _Draco’s_ hair in the snow. He hoped – almost desperately – that it wasn’t too expensive or classy because his gift probably couldn’t live up to something overly pureblood-ish.

  
He shuffled awkwardly. After some crude remark from Hermione and more giggling from all of his friends he finally opened up the box just to find a…

  
Book. A friggin’ colossal book.

  
Hermione’s eyes started to glint with a dangerous shine. Harry lifted up the golden cover and gasped excitedly.

  
“This is a sweet-grimoire!”

  
“The Malfoy’s grimoire, to be precise.”

  
“This is priceless!”

  
Draco straightened up in pride.

  
“Good to know that you’re not a complete moron after all” he said. “It contains more than three thousand recipes of the widest variety of cookies, cakes, sauces, creams and sweets.”

  
“But the Malfoy’s always had house elves, right? They’ve been preparing the food for like centuries!” Ron commented with a frown. The blonde’s extremely satisfied expression morphed into a sour one.

  
“I interrogated the house elves” he mumbled. It was the wrong thing to say. Hermione already lunged towards Malfoy and it took the two Weasleys joined power to hold her back. Draco screamed like a girl, Luna slipped a wand into Hermione’s hand with a serene smile and in the middle of the chaos all Harry had to say was:

  
“Stop! I want to see his reaction to the telly!”

 

 

 

On the twenty-fourth of December the strangest feelings caught up to Harry. He missed his family and for the first time in his whole life that term didn’t mean his dead parents but the Dursleys. Why? He hadn’t the foggiest clue. Maybe the sentimentalism the grimoire awakened reminded him of Petunia. The gratitude for that woman in his heart was a foreign feeling but he couldn’t help it. Honestly, he got his love for cooking and baking from Petunia – the method didn’t matter anymore. At this moment he felt like he never disliked them.

  
So he chose a more or less unobtrusive recipe as a gift and commanded Kreacher to find the Dursleys while he prepared the citrus cake.

 

  
  
The ingredients, the wrapping, the postcards were all muggle.

  
And they never reached their intended destination.

  
It was all Malfoy’s fault, like usual. He only wanted to show the cake to Hannah – she was the master, after all. But the incredible happiness at her praise proved to be nothing compared to Draco’s joyous face when he received the desired gingerbread Christmas Tree.

 

  
  
Harry’s heart stopped for a minute upon that sight. Twinkling silver eyes. Flushed, rose-like face. Slightly wetted lips. An aura of pure _bliss_.

  
He was _gorgeous_.

  
All thoughts about his family forgotten he followed Draco out of the pub and into the mesmerizing, snow covered, absolutely _magical_ Alley.

  
Kissing him tasted like mint, white chocolate and something unique. Something _Draco_. They forgot about space and time and other people. Even the cakes.

  
That could be the reason Hermione’s morose chiding and Ron’s audible face-palm took them by surprise.

  
“You owe me ten galleons, Ronald. And I’m eating that citrus cake.”

 

 

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you, dear readers!  
> (I once tried that caramel sauce. It's a SIN! Never try it, if you don't wanna be an addict!)
> 
> PS: Pictures were not made by me (unfortunately). Some of them are from browneyedbaker.com, one is from Jamie Oliver and the others I don't really know. Sorry, if that makes someone angry or whatever.


End file.
